slippers on fire       little acid fingers

and go nowhere near scorpion springs el flacido        like

something sad and soft there stirs a pathetic and petite prick

locked in safety in one number prophetically dislodged        slipped loose

and sunk low through the noose

sail away to rise moon-high on tip toe and all afire

slippers on fire        little acid fingers

she is your fix she is your nightmare she is all you want (to be)

she is she is       this she sees through the loops of your own eyes

trying not to look her way       trying not to stare for today

hush now foreign piece       go to rest where it is best

for you

go now

she is india ink       green to be black to

you     plaka brightly bland        craven-a smooth       cracked thick surface

deeply at first       flaked in pans

that leave and follow words from the world

she is nothing until they return nourished and irrigated by

fat water drops (infused synapses stretched to receive)

drought is the feed       little acid fingers

the famine is the ear

the orifices fill up with signs and ciphers

slowly seep in those fillings leaking in though mostly it is a feeling in the head

of deepest blotting     rare addiction

this fixation     slippers on fire      little acid fingers

paint on       paint on       paint on

seasofme181016parallaxis